Immortal Paladin

Golden Sun Pavilion was a scholar’s dream.

Despite its name, it wasn’t a pavilion made of gold—though the polished wood and flowing silk banners gave it a regal presence. It was a grand structure, with halls dedicated to various fields of study, from martial techniques to esoteric philosophy. The air smelled of aged paper, ink, and a hint of incense as if the very walls had absorbed centuries of wisdom.

I had spent the better part of the day patching up my general knowledge of cultivation. For someone thrown into a world of sword-swinging, qi-blasting warriors, I knew frustratingly little about the fundamentals. Sure, I had gathered bits and pieces from conversations and personal observations, but I needed a proper foundation.

The first thing I focused on was Spiritual Roots—the cornerstone of cultivation.

Spiritual Roots determined a person’s aptitude for cultivating qi. Without them, progressing beyond the mortal realm was impossible. Most people had some form of Spiritual Roots, but not all were equal. The best ones were Pure Spiritual Roots, consisting of a single elemental affinity—Fire, Water, Earth, Metal, or Wood. These provided an unhindered connection to heaven and earth, making cultivation smooth and efficient.

Then there were Mixed Spiritual Roots, which contained multiple elements. These were more common but came with drawbacks—conflicting elements slowed down progress, and only those with compatible affinities, like Water and Wood, could cultivate effectively.

The worst of the worst were Muddled Spiritual Roots—an unstable mess of conflicting elements. Those born with these were basically doomed from the start. Their cultivation speed was slow, their breakthroughs were difficult, and their chances of ever reaching the higher realms were slim to none.

Of course, there were exceptions. Treasures, divine interventions, or sheer, unrelenting effort could sometimes overcome a bad start. But it was rare.

Aside from Spiritual Roots, I also learned more about the stages of early cultivation.

Cultivators started in the First Realm, Martial Tempering, where they honed their bodies through external methods before internalizing qi. Next was the Second Realm, Mind Enlightenment, the stage where they first sensed and absorbed qi into their bodies. This unstable process was reliant on talent, patience, and, most importantly, one’s Spiritual Roots.

In the Third Realm, Will Reinforcement, was where cultivators learned to control qi with more precision, allowing them to strengthen their attacks, harden their defenses, and hone their willpower. This was the realm where a cultivator’s will began influencing reality, where their intents shaped the world around them.

Lastly in the Four Great Attributes... was the Spirit Mystery, the Fourth Realm. This was the stage where qi was no longer just fuel—it became something deeper, an extension of one’s being.

Higher realms delved into concepts beyond raw power—Soul Recognition, the Fifth Realm, was when cultivators began touching upon the mysteries of the soul, while Essence Gathering, the Sixth Realm, involved refining one’s very existence, drawing in the essence of the heavens and earth to elevate oneself further.

It was the best explanations I’ve seen so far in books.

In Lost Legends Online, Mana didn’t work like this at all. There was no process of gathering, refining, or condensing. It wasn’t something stored within a dantian—it was tapped into directly, like an infinite well that only dried up when one’s mental reserves were exhausted. There was no step-by-step tempering of the body or soul; just raw potential that increased through stats.

It made me wonder what was the logic behind a Paladin gaining physical stats when leveling up.

The idea of needing a special root just to access energy? Completely foreign to me.

I remembered my discussions with Jiang Zhen.

Jiang Zhen had been blunt about it—my Spiritual Roots were Muddled, and my talent in cultivation was absolute shit.

Not the most encouraging thing to hear, but at this point, I wasn’t even surprised.

”I still don’t get how compatibility works,” I admitted, flipping through a jade slip while lounging on one of the reading couches of the Golden Sun Pavilion. The scent of aged parchment and incense filled the air, a relaxing atmosphere despite my increasing frustration.

Jiang Zhen sighed at me like I was a particularly stubborn student who refused to grasp the obvious. ”It’s simple. If you try to mix oil and water, what happens?”

”They separate.”

”Exactly. Some energies just don’t blend well together. The lucky ones are born with Pure Roots—an affinity that ensures they don’t have to think about compatibility issues. You, however…” Jiang Zhen gave me a pointed look.

”Have a grab bag of random nonsense,” I finished for him.

”More or less. Moreover, with a foreign power system, you cannot practice cultivation methods that alter or refine energy. You don’t have the talent for it, and if you force it, best case? You get weaker. Worst case? You explode.”

I winced. Exploding didn’t sound fun.

The irony was that the best techniques—the ones cultivators hoarded like dragons guarding treasure—were precisely those that altered energy in some way. Techniques that refined qi, transformed spiritual power, or tempered the soul were the backbone of cultivation. Without them, I’d be at a massive disadvantage.

Jiang Zhen had told me a story once.

Fan Shi, a unique genius wielding both mana and qi, had almost died after learning her sect’s signature technique. It had been too violent, causing a collision of incompatible energies. Even someone as talented as her had barely survived.

And I had far less talent.

”Stick to technical stuff,” Jiang Zhen had advised. ”Things that rely on skill rather than energy manipulation. Or if you must take a cultivation method, make sure it aligns with your Paladin Legacy. That might give you a fighting chance.”

That was easier said than done.

So far, nothing in this entire building caught my eye.

The texts were useful for padding my general knowledge, sure. But techniques? Nah.

At least I was actually reading for once. Though, I’ve been reading lots of stuff since I arrived in this world. Which was ironic, because I had a terrible habit of skipping lore.

Things that I saw, I’d rarely forget and they would become stock knowledge.

However, if it was permitted, I’d rather skip them.

I should’ve been the perfect Linguist subclass—a walking encyclopedia of knowledge. Instead, my lore knowledge was mostly stock knowledge, the kind of stuff you absorbed just by existing in the game world long enough. Anything deeper? Nah.

I was the shame of all Linguists.

A serial cutscene skipper.

I leaned back and exhaled. Maybe I should at least brush up on LLO lore while I was at it. I probably had a few books stored in my Item Box that I’d ignored until now. The Item Box’s capacity was nowhere near full, so it wouldn’t hurt to actually use it.

At the very least, if I couldn’t cultivate like a normal person, I could at least make sure I wasn’t completely ignorant.

I glanced out the window and spotted Lin Lim speaking with the City Governor. The conversation looked civil—amicable, even. Good for them. It seemed like they were coming to an agreement.

The bigger surprise was the young man practically swooning over Lin Lim. That had to be the City Governor’s son. What a turn of events.

I shook my head and turned back to my book.

It was the seventh day of the festival.

Outside, preparations for the Grand Feast were underway, and tonight, there would be a closed-door auction—the event that the Sect Elders had been looking forward to.

Gu Jie sat idly beside me, reading a book with one hand while twirling a strand of her hair with the other. And then there was Ren Jingyi the goldfish swimming lazily around her fishbowl. Meanwhile, Jiang Zhen was staring at a painting of a turtle as if it held the meaning of life.

The past week had been insane, but I felt like I was finally reaching a conclusion. I had a direction now. Not exactly a mental roadmap, but at least I knew which way to go.

Jiang Zhen suddenly spoke up. ”So? What are your plans from now on?”

I flipped a page. ”Travel around, I guess. Visit the Big Sects in the Riverfall Continent and see if I can ask for their cultivation methods.”

Jiang Zhen scoffed. ”You actually think my Sect—or the other two—would just hand you their cultivation methods?”

I shrugged. ”I’ll make it work somehow.”

”That’s a dumb plan.”

”Not the dumbest thing I’ve done.”

Jiang Zhen let out a low chuckle before leaning back in his chair. ”And what will you do if none of them agree?”

”Figure something out.”

Jiang Zhen shook his head but didn’t push the point. Instead, he shifted the conversation. ”And what about me?”

I raised an eyebrow. ”What about you?”

”What do you think I’ll do next?”

I thought about it for a moment. ”Kill demons?”

”Correct.” He smirked. ”It’s a never-ending job.”

”You make it sound fun.”

”It has its moments.”

Jiang Zhen set his teacup down and turned to me. ”Join my Sect.”

I blinked. ”What?”

”You heard me. I’ll even give you a high position.”

I snorted. ”I refuse.”

Jiang Zhen sighed dramatically. ”A shame. You would’ve had a stable future.”

”That’s what you call stable?”

”For someone like you? Yes.”

I leaned back. ”Tempting, but I’m good.”

Jiang Zhen studied me for a moment before nodding. ”Good attitude.”

We left it at that.

Jiang Zhen suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. ”I have a suggestion.”

I looked up from my book. ”Go on.”

”You should go to the main continent,” he said, arms crossed as he leaned back. ”If you really want a technique that suits you, you’ll find better chances there. The sects in the Riverfall Continent may be… uhhh… er… prestigious, but their collections are still limited compared to what you’ll find in the heart of the cultivation world.”

I frowned. ”That’s a long way from here.”

He shrugged. ”True. But a letter of recommendation from Ren Jin would open a lot of doors for you.”

I leaned back and exhaled. ”I don’t want to get involved in any court drama.”

Jiang Zhen let out a short laugh. ”Smart. The imperial court is a nest of vipers. Even without getting involved, stepping into that world would put you on someone’s radar.”

I let his words hang in the air as I flipped another page. My eyes skimmed through endless descriptions of breathing methods, energy circulation, and techniques that promised enlightenment through rigorous training. None of them felt right. Then, after so much skimming, I found it.

Hollow Breath Technique.

It was something even a peasant wouldn’t want. A bottom-tier breathing method that barely circulated Qi. It wasn’t efficient. It wasn’t profound. It was utterly unimpressive. But it was also exactly what I needed.

Why this technique?

It had one thing the other techniques didn’t have.

A uniqueness that resonated with what I have in mind with Divine Sense.

Unlike other techniques, this one didn’t have anything to do with accumulation, refinement, and completion. Instead, it promised perception... specifically, the perception of your own Qi and the act of hollowing yourself to achieve enlightenment.

I didn’t need something grand. I didn’t need something that reshaped the heavens. My core would be a Paladin through and through. My focus wasn’t on cultivating the way others did—it was about raising my stats.

This Hollow Breathe Technique didn’t really have that big of a stat gain according to what I was reading, but it was better to start somewhere.

Moreover, it was the safest technique for me at this juncture. 

Brukhelm didn’t use any Ultimate Skills when we fought. That fact lingered in my mind. If he had been a high-level like I suspected, then why did he hold back? Was it because his cultivation base interfered with his power system?

It sounded logical. I didn’t have proof, but my instincts told me I was onto something.

Jiang Zhen watched me with a knowing smirk. ”Found something?”

I closed the book and tapped the cover. ”Yeah. Something simple.”

”That looked trash,” he said. ”Still, it’s better to have a foundation you can control than to reach for something beyond your grasp and destroy yourself.”

I nodded. I didn’t need something extreme. I just needed something that wouldn’t get in my way. I could build up from there. It was paramount to be careful from now on, when matters like mixing qi or mana was involved.

Later that day, as I was flipping through another book in the Golden Sun Pavilion, a powerful voice resounded through Yellow Dragon City.

It wasn’t a voice in the normal sense. It suffused the atmosphere, like the world itself was speaking. It wasn’t an attack, nor was it hostile, but it commanded attention.

”Greetings to Daoist Da Wei.”

I felt a jolt.

”The Emperor of the Grand Ascension Empire invites you to the Imperial Capital for tea. You are kindly requested to arrive by the 100th sunrise.”

The moment the words finished, the city fell silent.

I sat frozen in place, book halfway open. Across from me, Jiang Zhen was staring at me with wide eyes. Gu Jie had even stopped pretending to read.

”What the hell?” I muttered.

Jiang Zhen exhaled slowly, then laughed. ”Well. You wanted to avoid court drama, but court drama found you instead.”

”This isn’t court drama. This is an imperial summons disguised as a tea invitation.”

”Same thing,” he said, still grinning.

Gu Jie tilted her head. ”Master, it is the Emperor! You should feel honored…. I think?”

”Honored? You think? I feel targeted.” I rubbed my face. ”I haven’t even been here for long. What did I even do?”

Jiang Zhen tapped his chin. ”A lot.”

I groaned. ”I was hoping to lay low.”

Jiang Zhen shook his head. ”Too late for that. The Emperor personally acknowledging you means everyone will be watching.”

”Great,” I muttered. ”Just what I needed.”

Jiang Zhen leaned back. ”So? Are you going?”

I sighed, staring at the ceiling. 100 days. That was enough time to prepare. Maybe? But did I even have a choice? It was phrased politely, sure. But nobody refused an imperial summons. Heck, back in LLO, if I refused a King’s decree, I would suffer a bounty on my head.

It seemed I am going to have a long talk with Ren Jin.

I needed to figure out what I was walking into.